Monday, November 20, 2006
Some time ago, I posted some pictures of rooms I have painted and shared that this is what I LOVE to do. Some of my paintings are bright and boisterous. Some are muted and sophisticated. Either way, I find peace in creating them and joy in their completion.
Well, a friend from high school saw them on MySpace, sent them to a friend at Southern Living who sent them to a friend who is doing a book on Windows and Walls. She finally sent her contact information to me and said that she would be interested in using some of MY STUFF in her "bookazine". Of course, there are many ifs and maybes in between now and it actually happening, but it is getting closer to reality and I am VERY excited!
I thought I would share this blessing and prayer request with you all!
Love & Shipoopies,
Sunday, November 19, 2006
2:30 am can make or break you -- mentally AND physically (at least when you're OLD like me. :-) ha!)
As another random thought, my life is blessed with so many wonderful people to love and to love me. Friends, family, and acquaintances alike -- my days are blessed over and over with those who show affection, show appreciation, show me my strengths AND weaknesses, and show me how to be better by example. I think that ALL people are put into our lives for a reason -- sometimes to be there for us, and sometimes for us to learn about ourselves by being there for them. God is amazing and mystifying!
Cliche' as it may be, take a moment by yourself this Thanksgiving to find the small blessings in your life (not just the big, obvious ones). Find the people and situations God sent to you to challenge you -- to show you who you are deep inside. Sometimes these people show you strengths you didn't know you had, and sometimes they show you things you need to work on. Either way, they are a blessing.
If you are reading this, then chances are, you are one of my blessings that I thank God for each time I pray. Thank you for the love you show me, the courage you give me, and the things you teach me.
Have a great Thanksgiving!
Be careful, be joyful, and be full!!!
Love & Shipoopies!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
"Always Something There to Remind Me"
"Kung Fu Fighting" (that's what her shirt says)
"Cat Scratch Fever"
"Yesterday" (The party happened on October 7th.)
"Hit me, Baby, One More Time"
"Fire and Rain" (That's red hots glued onto her rain cap.)
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Love and Shipoopies!
Monday, October 30, 2006
Until then --
Love & Shapoopies,
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I am hosting my Bunko group's halloween Bunko and decided to have a costume party where your costume has to be a SONG TITLE. Now I have seen a few good song title costumes before and I have a great idea for my costume. But as I got to thinking about different possibilities for costumes, I realized that the people who read my blog (and the people who read and comment on their blogs) would probably be REALLY good at coming up with ideas for this challenge.
So I am putting the challenge to you folks. And please pass on to the brilliant people who read your blogs! If you were going to a costume party where you had to be a "Song Title", what would your costume be?
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Love & Shipoopies!
Friday, September 15, 2006
If you don't know the show "Wicked", it's about Glenda "the good witch" and Elpheba "The wicked witch of the west" BEFORE they became who they are in "The Wizard of Oz".
Love & Shapoopies!
This one cracks me up!
Maybe even funnier than the first (but much shorter and alot less "white trash"):
Happy Friday!!! Laugher for everybody -- on the house!!!
Love & Shapoopies!
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Ahhh, Snoopy Underoos! Those were the days!
Okay, so sometime last August I told my mother that if she would give me all of her old family photographs (boxes and boxes of them), I would get them organized and into albums for her. It only took me around a month to get them all organized -- (If I've never explained to you how I MUST do things like scrapbook, knit, and sort pictures while I work to remain awake, I'll explain that part later. I'm not REALLY just a glutton for punishment.) -- but then I had this BRILLIANT idea (read: more work for me) that in the year of 2006 and all of it's technology for preserving history, that I would also SCAN all of the pictures in an organized fashion so that they wouldn't get any more faded than they already were, PLUS this way, I get a copy; Scott gets a copy; Munner can have a copy, etc. Great plan in theory, but I discovered that the actual scanning will take me much longer than just getting them into albums becuase I can't SCAN while I'm working. Needless to say, that even though the pictures have been "organized" since September-ish, I'm just now starting to scan them. I finished scanning the "Scott" seciton, got them into an album, and am about halfway through the "Leslie" section. After that, I have "Ricki and Sheri before kids", "Our family (McKee)", "West Family", "McKee (extended) Family", "McKee/West families together", and "CCHS/Friends" left to go. :-) [Should be done by the time Drew finishes his doctorate. :-) ha!] Anyway, it has been tremendously entertaining to sort through the old pics of Scott and me and so I thought I would share just a couple of the "gems" to provide you all with a laugh break. :-) Enjoy!
Paris, look out because "That's hot!"
First of all, note that this is a SUPER-COOL Polaroid pic. :-D
Secondly, I ask you, should 3 year olds really be giving "come hither" looks? :-D ha!
In the realm of really cool things, this would be my brother and cousin Robby playing their horns as part of the "entertainment" at one of Scott's birthday parties -- and his friends are ENJOYING IT! That is some serious fabulousness right there!
Words can't express... :-D
Love & Shipoopies,
Friday, July 14, 2006
I understand that you live in a world where most things are not truly threatening to you -- and I don't mean threatening in an "I must prove my manhood and increase my testosterone" kind of way, but in a "my life might just be in danger" sort of way. I think that's great for you! Really, I do. Yea, men!
The thing I think you DON'T understand is that most women feel threatened WAY more often in life. If a strange man starts approaching us (even if the real intent is to innocently pass by) while we are at the ATM, getting into our car, going into our house/apartment, etc. we feel threatened. Our brains (or at least most females I know) are genetically formed to flash warning signs in any of these situations. Now, that's just the normal woman. Add to that that some women have TRULY been injured or violated by a man in some similar situation like this - whether it be rape, stalking, or just serious aggressiveness. For these women (and they are a larger percentage than you would probably think), these events don't just send off a chorus of "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Danger" in our head. For these women, these "innocent" moments can instill TRUE PANIC!!! Irrational though you may think such a fear is, it's there and for pretty good reason. Women are attacked DAILY at ATMs, while getting in to cars and apartments, etc. by random men who appear to be simply walking by.
PLEASE keep this in mind ANYTIME you see a woman alone. Don't walk right beside her. Don't walk right past her car door or her apartment door. Don't approach her at the ATM -- even if you are TRULY just trying to get a deposit envelope to save some time or trying to get to the other side of her car or apartment door. WALK AROUND. Pass through the cars a couple of cars over. WAIT until she is done to get the deposit slip. Go another way past her apartment door or wait out of the way until she is safely inside. You may think that you are just passing by her, but to her, you may be the guy who is fixing to force his way into her car/apartment/bank account/life and that is NOT good.
This all comes from the fact that I truly believe some guy was fixing to force his way into my apartment as I unlocked the door to go in and something made him not. I don't know what. Of course, for all I know (even though he did about 8 fishy things before this moment that I saw), he could just be Joe Schmo trying to get to his apartment 3 doors down.
Just a tip from a lady to men that I know don't mean to frighten strangers.
Love & Shipoopies,
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
This Sunday, it will be a year since my sweet Anna Banana died. There are things that make me feel it must have been just yesterday, like when I do something stupid and want to call and tell her about it and other things that make it seem like 10 years, like when I try to think of the last things we did together or the sound of her voice.
What an angel. Man, I miss that smile. I even miss the 17-year-oldness that used to drive me crazy.
Those of you who are prayers, please pray for our family -- especially the Withams -- this coming week. I'm sure this entire spring has been hard for them with all of her friends going through senior activities and graduation, but there's something about marking a year that makes it hard to believe. I know it is a hard thought for me to wrap my head around and she was only my "pretend child", friend, "sister", cousin. I can only imagine the sorrow of marking a year without your child.
Love & Shipoopies,
Thursday, June 15, 2006
I will preface my thoughts on the great intelligence that the general public possesses by saying that I am NOT expressing my views on the immigration issue (or "migration issue" as many of our bright citizens have called it). My thoughts on the immigration issue and requiring English to be spoken by all are so deep, complicated, and filled with "if"s, "but"s, "only"s, and "except for"s, that I couldn't begin to type long enough to express them. The one thing I will express my feelings on today, however, is the irritation it causes me when people who will argue that they shouldn't have to speak CORRECTLY when using English becuase "You unnerstud whut I said, din ya? Then it don't matter none," begin arguing that it is somehow a disrespect to our country or the English language for immigrants (or "them Mexicans" as they are widely known by these people) to speak anything other than English when they are inside the borders of the United States. Case in point --
In a public news conference given by the President of this great country earlier this week, in the one sentence I listened to (because when I hear his voice or see his face, I immediately change the channel since, as a "retired" English teacher, he makes my skin crawl) he used the "word" (I use the term lightly) "hisself" three times. The man, who is the PRESIDENT OF THE FREAKING UNITED STATES, used a word that is NOT A WORD three times IN ONE SENTENCE!!! Now, I know this is not surprising coming from Dubya, but (and I remind you that I am NOT in any way trying to express my opinions on whether or not immigrants should speak, sing, write, or spit in English or their native tongue) this is the man who is arguing that IMMIGRANTS should only be able to sing the National Anthem in English. It makes me wonder, could Dubya, 'hisself', sing the ENTIRE National Anthem in correct English? I mean, do you think he can actually pronounce ALL of those "BIG words"? I doubt it.
Now, as if that wasn't bad enough, then I saw THIS GUY during "Headlines" on Leno the other night.
Now, I'm not even talking about the fact that he wants us to boycot MEXICO -- not the Mexicans in our country, but the ACTUAL country of Mexico. I mean, is any of our immigration problem REALLY their fault? I think if someone were angry about the immigration problem, one would be better served to boycott Mexican establishments -- or protest at the White House, but that's not even my problem with his sign!!! (and let's not even get into the fact that so many of the "Mexicans" aren't even FROM Mexico, but other Latin and South American countries.)
My problem lies in the second of his two signs. I don't know that I can even express my frustration with this man and his sign. I think the picture really speaks volumes for itself. If you can't look at that second sign and figure out why I HAD to blog about it, then you probably don't enjoy most of my rants.
I guesss my point here is not to try and impress upon anyone that immigrants should be able to speak whatever language they want OR that they should all have to speak English all of the time. MY point is shouldn't we worry about getting the people in our country who "speak English" to ACTUALLY speak English before we worry about anything else? I mean, the majority of the people who are arguing publically that it's a travesty (though they would NEVER use that word because they've never heard it) for "all them Mexicans" to speak "Mexican" rather than "American" are the ones who say things like "Them Mexicans ain't got no sense if they can't speak American rather than Mexican. I can't understand nothing they say." REALLY!!!!!!!!!
Whooo, I feel MUCH better now. :-)
Love & Shipoopies!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
He actually plopped down ONTO my hand while it was on the mouse -- paws outstretched to the keyboard. What a crazy cat!!!
My second observation is this -- Cos is a bit of a klepto. He has tried to steal a number of pieces of paper off of my desk. We've also found him with some of my hair clips and a quarter. However, the BEST of the thefts was early Friday morning when I stepped out of the kitchen and looked toward the living room looking for Cosmo and I saw a Mardi Gras mask walking towards me. It was literally floating above the ground moving towards me. I, of course, could not get to the camera fast enough, but Drew held the mask so you can see what this would look like (without his hand, of course).
Cosmo had stealthily removed the mask from the shelf upon which it rested and got it into his mouth JUST RIGHT so that it looked like he was actually WEARING the mask. Below is a picture of the guilty party trying to look innocent right after dropping the mask. :-D
He cracks us up more and more each day. And also, just for Nolan's knowledge, he made it into the bedroom by Thursday night (2 whole nights later). Drew actually calls him to bed when he's heading that way now! :-) Drew's loving him.
Love & Shipoopies,
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Love & Shipoopies,
We brought him inside, fixed his cat box and food dishes and then let him out of his cage. He immediately began pacing and sniffing, which he did constantly for at least the first hour. This, at one point, included a discovery of the piano and the noise it makes when walked upon (which scared him tremendously). He's been pretty funny scaring himself. :-D He then began finding temporary hiding places for rest between bouts of pacing and sniffing.
He hid under our television cabinet with the weights,
came out to pace some more,
hid under Drew's desk,
and under the dining table. What you can't really see in this picture is that he was finally starting to assert his "ownership" once he made it to the dining chairs. He's sitting in one with his paws stretched out all of the way across the the chair opposite him. :-D Pretty funny.
This morning, however, he has let us pet him for more than a split second, hopped up on the couch with us, and even jumped into my lap at my desk with me a few times (though never more than a minute). He's starting to figure this place out and get comfortable. Pretty soon, he'll be the king of the palace. (What cat isn't the king of his palace?!?)
Drew is pretty excited about the whole process. He keeps watching Cosmo's every move and questioning it. He pouted when Cosmo wouldn't let Drew pet him or play with the laser pointer last night and ran to excitedly tell me when both happened this morning. He also called after he left for finals this morning to make sure that I could still SEE Cosmo because he "didn't see him sneak out, but they can be pretty fast, you know." There was also mention last night of MAYBE opening the bedroom door after Cosmo had had a few nights "on his own" to get settled. :-D All of this from the man who doesn't like "indoor pets".
Love and Shipoopies,
Leslie, Drew, and Cosmo
Monday, April 24, 2006
This is a little girl's room in a house I did in the ATL before I moved. The circles were time-consuming and it was a real PAIN to find the right green, but I LOVE the finished look. So cute for a young girl, and it can grow with her with minor changes in the room.
This is my parents' kitchen. Before the paint job, it had TEN YEAR OLD wallpaper that was more yellow than white (its original color). Mom likes blue (in case you have some sort of color-blindness). :-)
Love & Shipoopies!
PS - You'll notice a change in the spelling of shipoopies. My father corrected me on my spelling of this made-up word. Silly, I know, but his creation, his spelling, I guess. :-)
Sunday, April 23, 2006
When he was at "our house", he replaced a wall of windows and a window seat with beautiful French doors and windows that lead out onto a deck that he built for us. The deck was perfectly built to our specifications with a place built for a grill (with a hole underneath for ashes), "tables" for mother's planters and our drinks, and benches built to my height specifications for "laying out". I found his work fascinating -- learning about levels, chalk lines, and the like. More importantly, I found HIM fascinating. This was one of the first times when I spend QUALITY one-on-one time with him since I was old enough to appreciate one-on-one time with adults. He knew so much and was so funny and I found myself spending much time with him listening to his stories and learning about "handyman" kind of things. The one thing about those days that stands out the most is listening to his "Classic Rock" station with him while he worked.
Now, I was raised on oldies -- it's almost all we listened to in my house -- and I still love them, but we never listened to "classic rock". My parents were more into the animal groups -- you know, the Beatles and Monkeys -- than the Stones and Hendrix. Uncle Ric opened a new world of music to my ears, and though I didn't like it all since I couldn't sing along, I still associate MANY of those songs to Uncle Ric when I hear them. They entered into my memory box of sounds and smells so that when I hear them, I want to think of some supremely witty comment and call my Uncle Ric so he can remember how "cool" I am. :-) ha! They are part of my "cool hippy uncle" descriptors.
Fast forward, now, to last week. I was (and you'll excuse the confession, but it's relevant to the story) in the shower trying to find a station on my "shower radio" which is pretty complicated. (Reception isn't so grand in there.) The only station I could pick-up was a "classic rock" station. I immediately thought of Uncle Ric as "Give me Three Steps" came on. I drifted into a world of memories of time with my cool hippy uncle who listened to this OLD music. "Give me three steps. Give me three steps, mister. Give me three steps towards the door."
However, I was in for a rude awakening when the VERY NEXT SONG was a "rock" song from when I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL!!! I almost fainted. When did I become "CLASSIC"? How is it possible that MY MUSIC is now in the same category as Uncle Ric's? What has come of me? When did I become this "classic" person grouped with hippies and oldies? Where did my young, cool self go? Who knew one could so quickly become OLD?!? So Sad!!!
Henceforth, if any of you needs me, you can find me thumbing through the adds for retirement villages and nursing homes. I might as well! The time can't be TOO FAR off. :-D ha!!!
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Okay, for all of my friends who are wizards at the Blogger format, I need help with this one. I am used to another format and I can't figure out all of the neat things you have on your pages like "blogs I like" and the other little notes that are in the margins of your page.
I have (as you can see) figured out how to add a picture into a blog. (I am very proud because I just discovered that I can do that.) But I haven't figured out how to get a picture into my profile.
This picture, by the way will be most appreciated by Nolan. This is our SEC-touring family photo. The Bama fan and her Aubbie husband living in the world where they spell it "geaux".
Thanks in advance!
Love & Shapoopies,
However, because we were filing in two states (having moved from Geawgeeah to the hurricane-infested sauna that is Louisiana during this year), they had to send our state taxes to be done by someone who does "Allstate". (I'll add here that they kept using this term as if it was some common terminology that all Americans should know. As far as I know, Allstate is a car insurance company and should, therefore, have nothing to do with filing my state taxes. My best guess is that she, the woman who does "Allstate", does taxes for ALL STATES meaning they can only do Louisiana and she knows how to do other states. That's just my guess, though.)
Now, understand that this means that someone we've never met will do our taxes without us there to explain things to her. She's going solely on the knowledge and paperwork she has received from "yellie-yellerson" and "smackie-smackerson" (described above). When we finally got to look at these state taxes (surprisingly only 2 days after we did our federal taxes), it had us owing the state of GA (in which we only resided 7 of the 12 months of the year and for whom we witheld taxes all 7 of those months) almost $800. Now, I will say that we always owe GA some money over what we withold (which I have always found strange), but it's usually around $100. How can the same jobs with the same tax forms have a $700 difference in taxes from one year to the next -- especially since the later of the two years wasn't even a full year?!?
We called and after much run around from one office to the next and messages back and forth, Drew finally got to talk to the "Allstate" lady who actually IS an expert. It seems "Yellie" and "Smackie" told her that we lived in Georgia for the entire year. Now, I find it odd that she didn't see a problem with that as she filed our Louisiana taxes at the same time, but still... Since we weren't full-time residents of Georgia for the entire year, she fixed the taxes and Georgia owes us $400!!!!!
I don't know how many of you are math whizzes, but if you haven't figured it out, that's a $1200 difference from what we were originally told. TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!
This is just a friendly reminder that if your taxes look iffy and were filled-out by anyone who makes the name "tweedle" start popping into your head, CALL AND CHECK!!!
Oh my gosh!!!
Love and Shapoopies!
Friday, April 14, 2006
It's not half bad if you think about it.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Thursday began as any other Thursday would. I worked for a while, did some calls, ate some food, etc. THEN, I left to go to a dentist appointment where I was to have my teeth cleaned and get a crown put on a root canal that was done in like June or something. :-) (No avoidance happening there.) I had been to my dentist here in BR once before and loved him and the office. The office is run very well. They actually TELL YOU what's going on rather than leaving you in the dark. Very nice.
My hygenist begins cleaning my teeth and proceeds to tell me that she's going to go ahead and give me my shots of novacain while she's doing the cleaning and that way my mouth will be numb and ready for the crown to be placed. Now, at this point, I'm thinking to myself, "Self, I've never had a hygenist do the anesthesia before. It's always been the dentist." But then I responded to myself, "Yeah, but self, she said something about having taken anesthesia classes and this office runs so well. It's probably just how they do it. No worries." (Is anyone sensing a big problem about to occur? If not, you need to work on recognizing foreshadowing.)
Then, the hygenists asks another dental assistant to get her the syringe because she's going to go ahead and do the shots so I'll be ready for the crown. Then, she says, "Don't tell him (the dentist). He'll just want to come and watch." [In my head at this moment, "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger! Danger!] Then she turns to me, and probably seeing the panick in my eyes, says, "He always wants to watch me do shots because he says I do them better than he does. Hee-hee." (Yes, she actually giggled at that statement.) I try to remain calm at this moment because I figure if anything were really wrong with this situation, the other dental assistant would have said something or gone and gotten the dentist.
The hygenist then begins to prepare me for the shots. I can't help but notice that she's not shooting into my cheek like is normally done. She's actually fiddling her finger between my upper and lower jaws at the joint. Yes, that's right, she actually put the shot INTO my jaw joint. I actually believe that part was supposed to be done, but let me say that intentional or not, it hurt LIKE HELL!!! I actually yelped aloud (something I try my best not to do in public, being an adult an all). Her response to this was that I "shouldn't be feeling anything at all by now." I don't know if she was trying to "logic" me out of my pain or if she thought I was faking it or what, but I have never understood what good telling someone they shouldn't be in pain does when they are obviously in pain. Did she stop? Readjust? NO!!! She just kept on pushing in that crappy medicine and then reached for the second syringe (or possibly refilled the first. I was in too much pain at that moment to notice.) and pumped it in, too -- hurting even more than the first point. At which time, she again reassured me that I shouldn't be in any pain. [HELLO!!! DO YOU HEAR ME FREAKING SCREAMING HERE?!?]
Now, you may think that this is the bad part of my dentist story. YOU'D BE WRONG!!! After the two painful shots into my jaw bone, she goes back to polishing the ole' teeth. And occassionally, she taps on my lip and says, "Are you starting to feel funny here?" But oddly enough, I am not starting to feel funny in my bottom lip. My body is quivering and I'm getting sick to my stomach from the pain of the shot. (I tend to pass out when given shots into joints -- which I've had done before -- and these are the signs my body gives when it's about to pass-out.) Now, I'm freaking out a bit at this point because I can tell I'm about to pass-out. THEN, the oddest thing starts happening. My bottom eyelid starts jumping -- like I have a twitch nerve. Within 10 seconds, it was totally asleep. SHE NUMBED MY FREAKING EYE -- THE WHOLE TOP LEFT QUADRANT OF MY FACE!!!!! I became unable to BLINK!!! My eye would not close without the help of my fingers because all of the stuff inside the eyelids was asleep.
Does the giggly hygenist apologize? Of course not!!! She begins explaining to me (in at least 8 different ways that were all different) why it wasn't her fault or an accident -- how these things just "happen" sometimes. Then, she proceeds to give me 2 MORE SHOTS into my jawbone into the right (gosh, let's hope so) nerve rather than the one that puts your freaking eyelids to sleep!!! And, of course, since my mouth isn't numb at all, they were excruciating as well. (Am I having fun yet?)
Now, I must point out that at this point, I am (like a true southern gal) keeping my cool. I haven't complained. I haven't screamed (other than from the pain). I haven't even cried (though I am fighting tears a bit because I'm so freaked-out at not being able to close my eye). But I am so calm, you wouldn't believe it!!!
They move me to a different room where the crown will be done. The dentist comes in and (after obviously being told by the hygenist that she'd screwed-up my face) asks me to scrunch up my face. When I told him I couldn't (believe me, I tried), he tapped me on the cheek and said, "That'll come back." (As if the thought had crossed his mind that it might not come back!!!) I wanted to scream, "I sure as HECK hope so!!! I was working under that assumption. Do you think that I would be anywhere near this calm if I thought that my eye was PERMANENTLY open?!?" I mean really, people!!!
So then I proceed to have a crown placed which included the dust from drilling and that bright light aimed directly in my eyes -- WHICH I CAN'T CLOSE!!! (Please don't tell my eye doctor about this. He'd have a fit at the danger I put my eyes in to have a tooth fixed.)
Now, I know some of you are thinking that this is over, but you 've forgotten the title of this blog -- "Things that happen in THREES". That's right, folks!!! This is just the first of three things (all-be-it, the worst by far).
After the dentist, I napped, went to Supper Studio (which I loved) and then decided that after a morning like that, I deserved to have dinner fixed for me and it be something I love. So I went to Zippy's (the best fast-food authentic Mexican ever) to get Tamales El Juan (Mmmmmmm!) -- my favorite!!! We're talking homemade REAL tamales smothered in chili and cheese. I go in, order, talk with the staff who are always super friendly, and then I go to pay and after it won't run my credit card through 2 times, the cashier realizes that they don't take Discover -- the only method of payment I have with me!!! (If you're suprised by this, then you have once again, forgotten that things come in threes.) Now, though I'd rather skip it all and go home to bed, I (being the polite Southerner that I am), hate that they have fixed food that I can not pay for and it will, therefore, go to waste, so I tell them to please keep it and I will drive home, get money, and come back to get my Tamales El Juan.
So I pull out of Zippy's, drive home, run upstairs, find some cash, run back downstairs, get in the car, drive back to Zippy's and pay for my food. All is well, right? Ahhh, no, that's just number TWO of the three things.
I get back in my car, set my Tamales El Juan (which are cold by now, by the way) carefully in the passenger seat, lock the doors, go to crank my car, and -- YOU GUESSED IT -- my battery is dead. My car won't crank!!!!!! Now, I didn't leave anything on. I have done nothing to wish this upon myself. It simply died of it's own lack of a will to live, I suppose.
I then had to go back inside Zippy's to the people who already think I'm stupid because I couldn't initially pay for my food and ask for assistance because (I can't believe I forgot to mention this a minute ago) my husband is currently singing in a concert downtown and cannot be reached for assistance. All of our friends that I could call for such assistance are also either singing in the concert or at the concert watching. Thank goodness the people at Zippy's are so nice. The owner and one worker came outside with flashlights, PUSHED my car out of the parking spot so they could get another car near it, jumped me off, and had even offered to drive me home if they couldn't get it jumped off. NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL SERVICE!!! Kudos to Zippy's.
Now, I must mention at this point that by the time I finally got home (after a quick panick thinking I had lost my cell phone somewhere in the chaos but then finding it) and get my Tamales El Juan (which I will remind you is homemade tamales smothered in chili and cheese) out to eat, the cornbread-like substance that is the essence of the tamale has basically disentigrated into the smothering and rather than being big chunks of cornbread-like substance (which is the only reason I love the tamales so) is now microscopic bits of cornbread-like substance mixed-in with the smothering. AFter all of that, I couldn't even eat it. HOW SAD!!!
WHAT A FREAKING DAY!!! I figure I've had my share of "three things" to last me at least a year if not longer. :-)
And for those of you who were wondering, it did "come back". My eye finally woke-up like 5 hours later. (Though I will say my nap with my eye open was rather interesting.)